


Rituals

by dragonspell



Series: Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha Mick Rory, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Leonard Snart, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Leonard Snart, Top Mick Rory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard wanted to know what it would be like to go through a heat willingly.  To go through a heat with an alpha he liked—with <i>Mick</i>.  It wasn’t his fault that it was coming a month earlier than it was supposed to.  Omegas were only supposed to have a heat every three months if everything was working correctly.  Here was Leonard, however, sliding back into one in less than two.  He was apparently an overachiever.  </p><p>Or, more likely, the years of being dependant on a variety of suppressants had fucked up his cycle and now his body was attempting to correct itself and make up for lost time.  Fantastic.</p><p>(Or, Leonard, Mick and Lisa pull off a heist and Leonard's first willing heat comes early.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place about a month and a half after _Expectations_ , two months after _Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of._

The sign reads _‘Omegas and Beta Females are advised not to enter the ruins alone.’_ Leonard looks down at it with a small smirk. The plaque, originally posted in front of a third century ruin, is an exhibit in itself, a relic from another time. It goes on to describe the troubles that omegas might encounter, from dizziness to fainting spells to possible fertility issues. It doesn’t mention the possible _rape_ waiting around the dark corners, but it’s implied. A nearby book written during the same period also advises the same sex groups not to travel alone, especially to ‘less civilized’ areas. At the time, ‘less civilized’ mostly meant the slums, Africa, or the American West. All the places where the rich white populations were fairly scarce. Leonard rolls his eyes and keeps moving.

There’s a few more exhibits in the next hall that inadvertently highlight the same viewpoints—a piece on Vasilli Antonov who had successfully defended his farm from an advance scout of an invading army, gone on to warn the town, and then lead the victorious resistance. He’d been honored until it had been discovered that he was an omega and his rank had been stripped. Or a Margaritte Bergman who had passed herself off as an alpha for nearly her entire life. Leonard walks past them all. Interesting as they are, they’re not what he’s here for and the clock is ticking. “I’m in,” he says. “Ready?”

“Nearly there,” Lisa replies. There’s a reverb over the ear piece as her words reflect off of the air ducts that she’s climbing through.

“Working on it,” Mick rumbles. There’s a note of glee in his voice—no doubt because of the blowtorch he gets to use for this particular job. Leonard smiles.

It was only a little while ago that Leonard had been pulling jobs without Mick (neither of them had been a good place when that decision had been made) or Lisa (on a ‘sabbatical’ otherwise known as lazing around on a trust-fund baby’s yacht) and Leonard hadn’t realized just how much he’d been missing. He’d been relying on nearly anonymous crews sourced directly for jobs, people that had been recommended by so-and-so’s brother or were the nephew of a bartender’s friend and it really was no wonder that Leonard’s first showing against the Flash had been rather pitiful. Not only had he been dealing with a new kind of player, he’d also been doing so with liabilities at his side.

Johnson had been a big steaming pile of disappointment right from the get-go. He’d come recommended by Marge down at Saints and Sinners in between rounds. She’d swung an empty Miller Lite vaguely towards Johnson and had said that he’d done alright by her uncle, back when they’d knocked over the Cash Advance on Renard. Of course, her uncle had ended up in jail for that job after the police caught him trying to use the stolen money, which was something that she’d failed to mention. Leonard had found that fact out later.

There was also the matter of when Leonard had approached the man only to find him ensnared by the TV. Johnson had pounded the bar and loudly announced that he’d show that omega his place, by God. There wouldn’t be any _demands_ except for more of his cock. He’d elbowed Leonard, expecting him to join in on the ‘joke’ and Leonard had smiled thinly and walked away. Leonard didn’t need any potential ragehead alphas on his crew.

Two days later, Leonard had come back and offered Johnson a job when his first choice went out and got himself shot by his beta ex-girlfriend when she’d caught him in bed with a stripper from Cocktails. Leonard had briefly flirted with the idea of hiring the ex-girlfriend as at least she’d proven that she could shoot straight, but she’d been picked up by the cops the next day, found in bed with the very same stripper she’d shot the ex-boyfriend for—same bed, same house, like she wasn’t even trying. Good help was apparently in short supply in Central City lately. The so-called ‘Streak’ was putting them all behind bars. 

The fact that Leonard had been completely right about Johnson had been little consolation. After tossing out countless omega ‘jokes’ and accusing Leonard more than a few times of having no sense of humor, the man had lost his cool and shot a guard then turned on Leonard in a typical show of alpha-machismo. Shooting him hadn’t been Leonard’s finest hour, but it had solved at least one of Leonard’s problems while staving off a few others. That is, before the other two had been dumb enough to turn on him, too. They hadn’t been much better than Johnson.

Really, it was no wonder that for those few months, Leonard had vastly preferred doing jobs by himself.

He’s quite happy that isn’t the case now. 

“Two minutes, fourteen seconds,” he says and swings around a corner, his shoes echoing lightly on the tile. He strides past the paintings to the end of the hall. The museum’s security lights cast a faint glow on the otherwise sleeping exhibits, illuminating the main parts of the rooms while hiding the corners in shadows. He passes a stuffed buffalo and turns right. “One minute, forty-two seconds.”

“I’m through,” Mick replies, his voice a spot of warmth in Leonard’s ear. “Cutting power.”

“Right on time.” Leonard crosses an intersection and ducks behind a dulled suit of armor to reach a half-hidden panel. “Sis?”

“Ready.” Leonard flips the second switch and watches as Lisa descends from the ceiling like a bird. She wraps her legs around a pillar to steady herself behind a camera and plugs the splice into the line. “All set.”

Leonard grins. Perfect. He walks into a large dome and heads to the center. “Six minutes, thirty-seven seconds,” he says, starting his next mental stop watch. It’s satisfying to belong to a functional crew again, to have every routine down to a T. He bends down to get a good look at the shining stone encased in the glass. “Hello, beautiful.” Even in the low light of the security lights, the fire opal seems to burn with its own internal flames. The Creator’s Fire has been on display in the Waterford Museum in Keating for just under two weeks, on loan from the Gotham City Museum, and from the moment that Leonard had seen it flare under the lights of the TV cameras, he’d known that it wouldn’t be in Keating for much longer.

The glass gives easily under the cutter, taking only another twenty seconds to create an opening. With a careful hand, Leonard reaches in and takes the jewel, pulling it back through the hole in the glass. The pressure-sensitive alarm stays quiet, courtesy of Mick’s blowtorch in the utility room, and Leonard quickly pockets the stone. “Five minutes, fifty-eight seconds.” He strides to the emergency exit and slams it open. Its alarm is dead as well.

At four minutes, forty-seven seconds, Leonard reaches the car where Mick’s already buckled in. He leaps into the passenger seat and before he can think otherwise, he breaks his own rule and leans over and kisses Mick. Being intimate on the job is a no-go, as distractions lead to mistakes which lead to getting caught, but fuck it, Leonard thinks. He doesn’t care. They’re nearly gone anyway. When he pulls away, Mick’s staring at him, shell-shocked, and Leonard wants to kiss him again. He does. This time, Mick kisses back. 

At four minutes, three seconds, Lisa comes up beside them on her bike, climbing gear stowed in her backpack, and Leonard reluctantly pulls back into his own seat while Mick clears his throat. Lisa gives them a thumbs up and takes off, heading for the ramp of the parking garage as Mick and Leonard follow. At two minutes, fifty seconds, they’re clear, the museum’s sign fading in the rear-view mirror. Leonard’s lips curl into another smile. It will be another ten minutes before the loop flips back to real time and the museum guards, currently patrolling the far-side of the museum will take eight before noticing that they’ve been robbed. Perfectly planned, perfectly executed.

Beside him, Mick shouts and punches the roof in victory. “Yeah!” His hand comes down on Leonard’s thigh instead of the steering wheel that it had left, fingers sliding over the inside of Leonard’s leg, as Mick shoots him a quick grin. It’s nothing, just something that Mick’s always done, his own little ritual after a job, like he’s reassuring himself that both him and Leonard have made it out. It used to be a quick pat, but now it’s morphed into a lingering touch. Leonard’s own smile widens as a thought occurs to him. He covers Mick’s hand with his own, encouraging him to move it just a little higher. 

He positions Mick’s fingers, the denim of his jeans tightening, and his breath catches in his throat as Mick explores a little on his own, feeling out the length of Leonard’s rapidly hardening cock. Arousal and leftover adrenaline mix together for a heady cocktail and Leonard finds himself spreading his legs wider. Peripherally, he’s aware of the fact that they’re in a car with clear windows, that despite the fact that it’s night, they’re only one good light at an intersection from being seen, and they’re only minutes away from their latest lift. He just can’t find it in himself to care about much beyond the feel of Mick’s touch, the aroused edge of his scent, and the knowledge that Mick will do whatever he wants. Leonard licks his lips and sinks down in the seat, pushing himself more into Mick’s hand. 

Mick gives Leonard a few more teasing rubs, then growls, and takes his hand away to make a right. After, he grips the wheel with both hands. 

That’s alright. Leonard’s willing to take over. He leans against Mick and runs a hand up Mick’s arm, fingers sliding over the hard muscles beneath heavy jacket. “Mmm,” he purrs and dips his head to rest it against Mick’s shoulder. “I like this coat on you.”

“Same as I always wear,” Mick rumbles. They pass under an intersection, the car flashing green for a moment. 

“Maybe that’s the point,” Leonard says. He trails his hand down to reach the bare skin at Mick’s wrist, dragging his fingertips over the back of Mick’s hand. Mick shivers. Smiling, Leonard nuzzles into the join of Mick’s neck, pushing past the collar of the jacket. He licks at the sweat that’s sliding down Mick’s skin and Mick swears as the car jerks to the side. 

“Lenny,” Mick growls as he gets the car back under control.

“What?” 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but stay over on your own side.” Mick shoots him a quick glance. “Or I’m going to end up crashing the car. You’re distracting.”

Leonard chuckles and shifts his hand to Mick’s chest. “Maybe you should pull over then.” Mick is the only thing that Leonard’s focused on right now, the car and the outside world a distant concern. He drops his hand down to Mick’s crotch and grabs shamelessly.

“Jesus, Len!” Mick slams on the brakes in time for a red light and Leonard’s debating climbing into his lap when there’s a knock at the window. They both look to the left to see Lisa looking at them through her helmet. She flips up the visor as Mick rolls down the window.

“I get it, but do you two think you can save it until we get to the safe house?” she drawls. “Be a shame to ruin a good getaway because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other for five minutes.”

Someplace inside of him wants to blush in shame but outwardly, Leonard shrugs. “Sure.” He pulls his hands away and settles back into his own seat. Mick breathes a sigh of relief and Leonard smirks.

Arousal is still thrumming through him and part of him wants to jerk off right now just to see what Mick would do, but, yeah, he can wait. Leonard’s good at waiting. He proves it by keeping his hands to himself the entire rest of the drive and, when they reach the safe house and Mick heads hopefully to the bedroom, Leonard winks at him and diverts to the shower.

Mick’s frustrated groan is audible through the door.

* * *

“What is this?” Leonard demands as he strides into the living room. He shakes the bottle that had found sitting in his shower like it had any right to belong there. Over on the couch, Mick sits upright, head swiveling away from the TV. Leonard veers towards him despite his real target being halfway to the kitchen with her empty glass. 

Momentarily stopped, Lisa eyes him up and down, unimpressed. Whether it’s his tone or his bathrobe that she’s finding lacking, Leonard doesn’t know. It’s probably both. “Mango sorbet.” 

“Nooo,” Leonard says, drawing the word out to express just how wrong that explanation is, “because _that’s_ a dessert. This is soap.” He tosses the bottle to her and she snatches it out of the air one-handed. “Try again.” Mick’s Henley is soft beneath Leonard’s fingers as Leonard plays absently with a seam.

Lisa huffs and finishes walking into the kitchen. Dishes clatter in the sink. None of them are particularly big on actual cleaning. “If you knew what it was, why were you asking?”

Leonard frowns down at the hand that he has snaking under Mick’s shirt and pulls it away. When did he…? Shaking his head, he steps away to get a clearer view of the kitchen. He crosses his arms, hands folding into the soft terry cloth of his robe. “Why was it in my shower?”

“We share that shower, Lenny.” Lisa turns to face him, crossing her arms to match his. 

“You have your own bathroom. Isn’t that why we’re staying here? Because you liked the bathroom that _you chose_?” Leonard swings his head to Mick, looking for some support, or at least another voice, but though the conversation apparently has Mick’s complete attention, Mick keeps his mouth shut. Leonard’s on his own. 

Lisa shrugs. “I like yours now,” she says. Of course she does. Leonard has to concede that point. Lisa had been deciding that the grass was greener on Leonard’s side of the fence ever since she was born and she wasn’t about to stop now. Especially not when Leonard had encouraged her to think that way. “And you should probably use it,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “You reek.”

“I just came _out_ of the shower,” Leonard says. Mick grunts, his usual noise for agreement, and Leonard shoots him a look. _Now_ he decides to chime in?

“Yeah, well maybe,” Lisa grabs the bottle that she’d set down previously, “you should go jump back in.” She tosses it back to him. He wants to let it hit the floor but he knows better.

“And I’d come out smelling like a dessert.” There is a heavy scent in the air, heady and full, but Leonard’s pretty sure that it’s not him. Besides, it smells _good_ , so it couldn’t possibly be what Lisa’s talking about.

“Mick,” Lisa says, turning for reinforcements, “doesn’t Lenny stink?”

Mick slowly shakes his head no and Leonard barks a laugh while Lisa pouts.

Lisa glares at both of them. “Well, whatever. You do.”

“Sorry, sis. The second opinion says that you’re wrong.”

“The ‘second opinion’ is currently sleeping with you. His senses are suspect.”

“Admit it, Lis,” Leonard says, strolling back over to Mick. “You lost this round.”

“Jerk.”

“Trainwreck.” Leonard plops onto the couch next to Mick who goes completely and utterly still. Leonard turns to look at him. Mick’s staring at him, eyes a little glassy and mouth open as he takes a deep breath. And then another. Like he’s attempting to breathe Leonard in. Leonard frowns. That’s weird. “Mick?”

“Yeah, Len…” Mick mumbles and slides a little closer, arm slinking over the back of the couch, reaching outward. For a moment, Leonard leans forward, drawn in by Mick’s scent and the way his eyes seem to be lit with fire. It’s intoxicating. Leonard feels…muddled.

Survival instincts kick in, screaming for Leonard to get off the couch even as something inside of him begs him to stay still. He doesn’t know which to side with and ends up half stumbling to his feet as his hands drag along the arm of the couch. 

The puzzle finally clicks together: Lisa complaining about his smell, Mick being zombified, Leonard giving into horniness on a goddamned _heist_... “Shit.” It wasn’t supposed to be this soon. Leonard was supposed to have another month! Mick stands and Leonard puts the couch between them. “Mick…” 

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asks, concerned.

“Ah, Len, I’m not going to do anything,” Mick protests, taking a shambling step forward. Leonard mirrors him, keeping the same distance between them. His baser instincts demand to know what he’s doing. He’s supposed to going towards the alpha, not away from him! “Nothing you don’t want, anyway.” Mick’s voice trails off and they stare at each other for a moment before he shudders and visibly reins himself in. “Jesus, Lenny,” he growls, anger roughening his voice. “You couldn’t warn me or something?”

“Oh, _God_ ,” Lisa says. “You stopped taking your pills? Because…” She looks over at Mick and then back to Leonard. “And you didn’t _tell_ anybody?”

“Sorry,” he whispers. Yes, it was stupid. But Leonard had done it anyway. He just…didn’t want to take the pills anymore. He…

He wanted to know what it would be like to go through a heat willingly. To go through a heat with an alpha he liked—with _Mick_. It wasn’t his fault that it was coming a month earlier than it was supposed to. Omegas were only supposed to have a heat every three months if everything was working correctly. Here was Leonard, however, sliding back into one in less than two. He was apparently an overachiever. 

Or, more likely, the years of being dependant on a variety of suppressants had fucked up his cycle and now his body was attempting to correct itself and make up for lost time. Fantastic.

Leonard hadn’t even recognized the warning signs himself. Yes, he’d felt the rising warmth inside of himself, the urges and the desires, but he’d simply lumped them in with this thing that he has with Mick. How was he supposed to know that they were different? It all felt the same nowadays. Leonard has never willingly let himself go into heat; he’d never been taught to pay attention to the minutia. Now, though, there is no denying it. His knees tremble, wanting to break and take him to the floor. “We’ve got to go.” They’ve got maybe a half a day, he thinks. Maybe less. He doesn’t _know_. Everything around Mick feels red hot.

Mick swings his head around to the bedroom.

“Not there,” Leonard says. Mick frowns at him and drops his eyes to the couch. “Not there either.” No, if they are doing this, then they are doing this right. Leonard wants it to be _right_. He’d _thought_ about this. He’d _planned_ for it. Planned it all out.

“ _Where?_ ” Mick rasps. He’s fighting to stay where he is, the strain evident on his face.

“Starling City.” There’s a bag in the back of the bedroom closet. It’s mostly packed already. 

Mick groans. “You want us to go to _Starling City_? That’s hours from here, Len.” It has to be Starling City. That’s where Leonard wants this to happen.

“Then we’d best get going.” The condo should be stocked already. Leonard had made sure of that.

“What’s in Starling City?” Lisa asks.

Leonard throws the answer over his shoulder. “A condo.”

“Len…” Mick reaches for him, but Leonard steps back out of his grasp. 

“You’ll wait, Mick,” he says. Mick growls, but stays where he is, and a shiver runs down Leonard’s spine. 

He has probably spent too much time with Mick over the years, too, because Leonard can’t resist playing with that fire. Throwing caution out the window, he deliberately steps into Mick’s space. Mick tracks his every move, eyes locking onto Leonard’s hands as they rise and gripe Mick’s face. Leonard smiles. “Whatever I want, right?” he murmurs. When Mick nods, Leonard kisses him hard and firm, holding him steady with his hands. Mick stumbles then wraps his arms around Leonard like steel bands. “You’ll wait.” Bowing his head, Mick takes another deep breath of Leonard’s scent and nods again. His arms drop away, releasing Leonard. Leonard gives him another small kiss and then moves away, heading back towards the bedroom. “Get packed.”

* * *

On 47th and Park, the doorman swings open the ornate glass doors with a large smile. “Oh, Mr. Hutchinson! Nice to see you back, sir! How long are you—oh.” He trails off, looking from Leonard to Mick. The scent that Leonard must be giving off must be nearly suffocating, judging by the pained grimace on Mick’s face and the way the doorman suddenly covers his nose with a sleeve. Leonard fights with himself to keep his shoulders where they are and not curl them in on himself. He feels exposed. Sweat beads along his brow, a mixture of embarrassment and the heat that’s unfurling inside of him. This is already going badly. “I’ll call up the building super right away, Mr. Hutchinson,” the doorman mutters from behind his sleeve. He grabs his cell phone and presses a number.

“There’s no need—” Leonard starts, but the doorman waves him off, the hand with the phone gesturing in the air before he places it to his ear.

“It’s no problem, sir. None at all. We’re honored that you chose to stay with us.” He nods earnestly like it’s true, then jerks his head to the lobby area inside the doors. “You should probably go inside.”

Leonard swallows as second, third, and fourth thoughts race through his mind. It’s getting harder to convince himself to move, to force himself to do anything other than strip off his clothes. He wonders how long it would take before he wouldn’t care if he was still out in the street or in a private room. A few hours, maybe? The desperation is already threatening, tightening his muscles as it settles over him like a familiar blanket. He startles when Mick places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine,” Mick whispers. “Nice place you got here.” 

Leonard nods curtly. “Yeah.” He’d deliberately selected it because it was nice. A nice building, in a nice neighborhood, the exact opposite of what Leonard grew up with. The kind of place that has a doorman that remembers your name even though he’s only met you twice instead of a drunken father that forgets it during his nightly rage. The kind of place that it’s acceptable, even _desirable_ to be an omega for reasons that Leonard doesn’t quite understand. Leonard interlaces his fingers in front of him and steps into the lobby, walking past the potted ferns and the trickling waterfalls. The white tile of the floor stretches towards a bank of gleaming elevators, branching off now and then to lead to the residents’ only gym, the pool, and a few other amenities. The entire place is an altar to affluence, but none of it matters beyond the 12th floor button. Sweat slicks Leonard’s palm, making his fingers slide against one another.

It doesn’t help that Mick smells like sex standing next to him. Leonard tightens the grip he has on his hands in an effort to stop them from reaching out to Mick. He’s close to knocking Mick down and mounting him right in front of the decorative waterfall.

A man steps in front of them as they approach the elevators, his tailored suit matching his tailored smile. Leonard vaguely recognizes him. “Mr. Hutchinson,” the man simpers. “We’re honored that you have chosen to enjoy your heat here with us. An omega’s heat is truly a blessing for all.” He keeps his hands tightly interlaced in front of him, unintentionally mirroring Leonard, though undoubtedly something he’d been taught to do with dealing with an omega in heat. “And your alpha. Truly stunning.”

“Thanks,” Mick rumbles.

If he notices Mick’s dry as dust tone, he doesn’t let it affect him, for his enthusiasm continues unabated. “Thank _you_ ,” he says. “I’ve already taken the liberty of sending up supplies. Hopefully, they will meet your needs.” He gestures to the elevator banks and Leonard nods as he steps past. 

It’s an effort to simply put one foot in front of the other anymore. Everything in him is demanding that he drop to the floor and stay there. He can feel Mick’s heat at his back, smell his alphaness, and it makes him tremble.

“Enjoy your stay,” the man says as they board the waiting elevator.

Leonard inclines his head. “Thank you,” he rasps, hoping that the man will not decide to join them on the trip up to the 12th floor.

“Oh, you are most welcome, Mr. Hutchinson. And let me once again extend the thanks of the entire building.” The doors close on the man’s smiling face and Leonard drops his gaze to the carpeted floor then closes his eyes. It’s a mistake because all he has to focus on now is Mick’s scent, the promise of sex and a satisfied heat—his first one in its own way. His mouth drops open on a quiet gasp as he forces himself to focus, staring at the lighted numbers of the elevator. Behind him, Mick sidles closer, putting his warmth against Leonard’s back.

“Some omegas,” Mick rumbles, “can broadcast across entire floors.” For a moment, the comment seems out of nowhere, then Leonard recalls the pleased smile of the building super. Fuck. Was that what the man had been insinuating?

A flush works its way up Leonard’s neck and he tries to will it away from touching his face. “ _Broadcast,_ ” he repeats sarcastically.

“Share their, um, yeah.” Mick shuffles a little closer, his face moving dangerously close to Leonard’s neck. “Used to live in a building with one. Every three months, everyone got into a real good mood.”

“Fantastic,” Leonard replies. He might be responsible for a whole bunch of people suddenly feeling an urge to get down. That was wonderful.

Mick groans softly as his hands alight on Leonard’s hips. Leonard traces the backs of them with his fingers, taking deep, slow breaths to keep himself calm. He can’t turn around. If he turns around, it will be all over. There won’t be any going back. He and Mick will end up knotted on the floor of the elevator. “Not horny, Lenny,” he whispers. “Just happy. Even the drunk assholes managed to not pick any fights on those days.”

“But everyone still knew what was going on.” That is the true nightmare, right there. Bad enough to be born an omega with heats, but for everyone else around you to be aware of your personal business?

Mick shrugs. “Didn’t matter.” He presses his nose just under Leonard’s jaw and breathes deep. His hips buck, pushing into Leonard and Leonard rocks forward with the motion. “Fuck, Len…”

The elevator dings as the doors open and a startled man stands there looking at them. He stumbles as their combined scents reach him and grins. “I’ll, uh, catch the next one,” he says and forces himself back against the far wall. “Happy heat.” He stares at them both and licks his lips as the doors close.

“You smell so goddamned good, Len…” Mick grinds himself against Leonard’s ass and Leonard shudders. At this rate, they might not make it to the 12th floor. Leonard glances up and sees the lighted 8 change to a 9. He grips Mick’s hands tightly.

“Wait,” he orders with all the determination that he doesn’t feel. Mick peels himself away with a growl and bangs a fist against the paneled wall.

 _10._ Mick is already rebounding and coming back for Leonard, unable to keep himself away. _11_. Leonard shivers as Mick’s hands trail down his arms and tangle with his fingers. _12_. The elevator dings open again and Leonard propels himself out into the hallway, dragging Mick along with him.

He fumbles with the key, his fingers bumbling and uncoordinated as Mick presses against his back, mumbling words into his skin. When the lock finally clicks open, he sighs in relief and falls inside. 

The place is immaculate, as if he had just stepped out. The front entry way spreads out into a large, loft-like interior, the kitchen and living room to the right, the bedroom dead ahead, rising off the main floor with a few steps. And none of it matters beyond the fact that it will serve as a backdrop for what’s about to happen.

When the door shuts behind them courtesy of Mick’s disinterested shove, Leonard tosses the keys in a nearby bowl and pushes back into Mick. Mick rumbles, his lips moving against Leonard’s neck, and Leonard’s hands skim over Mick’s hips before he raises one to cup Mick’s head. Mick’s tongue flicks out, warm and wet on Leonard’s skin, and Leonard can’t control his mouth anymore—it is running away without him. In between the pants and the groans and the soft little unclassified noises, Leonard gasps. “Like this. Do it like this.” He’s aching, his whole body feeling like it’s on fire, and all he can think of is how much he wants Mick inside of him, how much he wants to do what his instincts are demanding of him.

It scares him how little he cares for anything else at the moment. It elates him.

“Like this?” Mick asks as he holds Leonard against him.

“Yeah,” Leonard breathes. “Yeah, Mick, like this.” Mick’s hard cock rides the crack of his ass and Leonard knows that he should be more cautious, that in another time, another place, he’d be terrified of being like this, but it’s _Mick_. It’s Mick behind him, Mick as his alpha, and Leonard wants him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

“You sure?” Leonard knows why Mick is asking; he’s aware that he’s never allowed Mick to take him behind, but all the reasons why don’t seem important anymore.

“Yes.” Leaving Mick’s warmth is hard, but Leonard pushes away and heads to the bed. He’s wearing too many clothes, his skin already starting to tingle as the heat ups his sensitivity. He drops his coat to the floor and then his sweater, his tank top, his belt. He unbuttons the top of his jeans and when he finally dares to look, Mick is efficiently stripping as well, his chest bare as he starts working on his boots. Leonard kneels down and removes his own boots, then pushes his jeans down past his hips. Mick, already naked, cock thick and hard between his legs, steps into Leonard’s space again. His hands smooth over the skin that Leonard’s revealed, dragging over Leonard’s chest and stomach down to his groin, removing Leonard’s underwear as he makes his way to Leonard’s thighs. “Mick…” Leonard whispers and pulls him in for a kiss. He bites at Mick’s lips and soothes the hurt with his tongue, then breaks away. Breath shuddering, he turns around, giving his back to Mick and Mick plasters his hot, sweat-slicked body to Leonard’s, hands moving around to Leonard’s front to grab at his chest, fingers teasing and pulling at his nipples. Leonard gasps and jerks forward, the pleasure radiating along his nerves. His body trembles, arms shaking, legs threatening to give out.

Mick pushes him forward, bending him over at the waist, and Leonard braces himself against the bed, his face burying in his folded arms. He feels like he’s going to explode, feels a pressure mounting inside of him that might shatter him into a million messy pieces. Mouthing at his arm, he presses back, hoping to ease the ache, shamelessly edging his ass upward. Mick groans and something slick and wet presses against his hole, flexible and definitely not Mick’s fingers as they’re both gripping Leonard’s hips like vices. _Tongue_ , Leonard thinks and moans as it flicks over his sensitive skin and delves inside. “ _Fuck_ …” he mutters, voice breaking. He digs his fingers into the bedspread, a vain effort to hold himself together, as Mick buries his face in Leonard’s ass. He fucks Leonard with his tongue, warm and wet, but not nearly deep enough for what Leonard needs. Leonard pants and mouths soundless pleas for more, until one manages to find his voice. “Please…”

It hits Mick like a whip, jerking him forward before he shoves himself back to his feet. “Yeah, Lenny,” he mutters. “You’re so hot. So goddamned hot. I’m gonna, gonna…” He shoves a finger, slick and twisting, into Leonard and Leonard rocks himself backward to get more of it inside, beyond the point of shame and dignity and needing Mick inside of him. Mick adds another, slicker. Leonard whines. “Fuck, Len.”

“Fuck me, Mick,” Leonard pants. “Fucking _do_ it.” Mick’s body is hard and powerful, maddening with its proximity and promise, and Leonard reaches back, desperate and needy. His fingers slip over Mick’s hip, skate along to the base of his cock, and they both groan when he wraps his fingers around Mick’s thick length. “Get your cock in me.”

“ _Christ_.” Mick surges forward, his dick bumping over Leonard’s thigh and sliding underneath him to rub against his own cock. Leonard sucks in a harsh breath and rolls his hips, making himself knock against Mick, as he teases his fingertips over the both of them. “Gonna pop a damn knot…” Mick rasps.

A wrapper rustles as Mick pulls away. Leonard shivers, recognizing the sound of a condom, and then Mick is back. He lines himself up and pushes into Leonard excruciatingly slow, each inch seeming to take hours. Needing Mick inside him, Leonard shoves himself backward, forcing Mick’s cock in. Mick swears and folds himself over Leonard’s back as Leonard sighs, pleasure and relief flowing through him. He feels stretched, full, _complete._

It feels perfect, right, especially when Mick mutters, “You’re goddamned beautiful, Len,” and starts to thrust, his hips rocking in slow, shallow movements that steadily get harder, faster, deeper. Leonard bites into his arm again, diverts and sinks his teeth into the bedspread, fighting to keep himself together with the pleasure and the heat that’s surging through him. Mick mumbles half-formed words against his neck, little encouragements and praises. “Hot,” he says, and, “Beautiful.” They mix in with “need” and “want” and five variations of “yes.”

Mick growls and grabs a hold of Leonard to force him more onto the bed, pushing his knees up over the edge and his chest more to the center. The bed dips as Mick joins him, rocks as Mick keeps up his pounding rhythm. Mick’s cock catches on Leonard’s rim and Leonard groans, his eyes fluttering open and then closed again. He can feel Mick’s knot pressing against him, can feel the stretch as Mick shoves it back in and the resistance as it grows bigger. It ties them together and Leonard whimpers, undignified and uncaring, as he writhes against the bed. Mick’s thrusts shift into long rolling circles as he starts to come.

Leonard muffles himself against the bedspread and orgasms, body tightening, clenching around Mick. Mick’s rumble morphs into a breathless gasp and he pitches forward, bracing himself overtop of Leonard, his cock pulsing.

The orgasm steals the strength out of Leonard’s arms and he lets himself go limp, dropping completely against the bed. Mick’s steady, even rolls rock him back and forth. 

Letting himself drift, Leonard loses track of time until Mick gives a final shudder and collapses on top of him. They’re still tied by Mick’s knot and a bone deep satisfaction stretches through Leonard’s limbs. He sighs happily, content for the moment, even with—or maybe because of—Mick’s weight on his back.

“Sorry,” Mick mumbles and gently takes them both to their sides. He wraps his arms around Leonard, holding him as he nestles against him. It’s funny because few short months ago, hell, a few weeks ago, Leonard would have punched Mick for daring to spoon him, but now it makes his heart leap in his chest. It’s another progression, another thing that feels right, natural. He hides his smile against the pillow and goes back to drifting. With the heat momentarily ebbing, exhaustion is setting in. Reaching back, he rubs a hand against Mick’s hip and thigh and lets himself sleep.

* * *

Heat and urgency wake Leonard, making him pant and writhe as he seeks relief. Mick is already responding, mouth and hands moving along Leonard’s skin. Their limbs tangle around each other and Mick thrusts into Leonard again, knot rising. Leonard gasps. “Please, Mick,” he whispers. “Please.” What he’s pleading for, he doesn’t know.

“Whatever you want, Len,” Mick rasps. Together, they struggle against the bed, seeking to press themselves as close as possible, to move into each other’s skin.

Leonard sobs as he comes, a quiet, shuddering gasp because pleasure and pain, desperation and relief, are all blending together as one. Mick shouts and drives himself in as deep as he possibly can.

Leonard feels Mick begin to come and drifts back to sleep, fatigue and release weighing down his body.

* * *

The sun streams through the partially open blinds of the window, striping the room with yellow and black. Leonard wearily turns his head to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 9:32. He groans and attempts to peel himself away from Mick’s iron grip. He shifts and Mick grunts, tightening his hold, still asleep. Leonard smacks his hip weakly. “Let go.”

“Mmm. Len?” Mick opens one sleepy eye to glare blearily at him. “Again?”

“No,” Leonard says. His mind helpfully replays flashes of last night’s blur. “I gotta piss.”

Mick releases him and rolls over onto his other side with a grunt. “’Kay.” Leonard runs his eyes over the patchwork of scars on Mick’s shoulders, down to where they contrast with the smooth muscle of Mick’s back and eventually fade, and down farther still to where a sheet covers the swell of Mick’s ass. Lying on the bed, sleep-deprived and worn out, Mick is a work of art. Leonard smiles. If Mick were a painting, Leonard would steal him in a heartbeat. 

In the bathroom, Leonard uses the toilet and splashes his face with water. He shies away from his reflection, expecting that he’s got to look like he was put through the wringer considering the night before, but he snorts when he sees nothing of the sort. Fucking heats. He has enough orgasms that he loses track, multiple positions, and his body acts like it’s just fine.

When Leonard comes back, he half expects Mick to be snoring, but instead finds him digging through a large wicker basket on the table. “The hell?” Leonard asks. He debates walking over but decides on going to the bed instead. He flops down on top of the disheveled blankets.

Mick holds up a handful of granola bars, a bottle of water, and Leonard supposes, judging by the small, colorful bottles and plastic squares, to be an assortment pack of lube and condoms. “Supplies,” Mick says with a grin. The box of lube lands somewhere around Leonard’s feet. “Could use that later. Think we nearly went through a whole bottle last night.” Leonard cranes his head to look at the far night stand and spots the nearly empty bottle. The trash can is probably full of discarded condoms and wrappers. He grunts dismissively.

“You should eat something.” Plastic crinkles as Mick rips open a package. “Could have another surge.”

“Fuck.” Leonard scrubs at his face. It’s 100 percent true. Right now, he feels nothing other than a vague kind of contentment, but that means nothing. His heat could return in a few hours, cycling back around to lay him out flat again. There’s food in the refrigerator, but fuck if he feels like making anything. Should have thought of that.

“Got some…” Mick holds the bars up to read them. “Dark Chocolate and Cherry, Cashew, and, uh, Fruit. I guess.”

“Okay.” 

“Which one you want?”

“Whatever,” Leonard says, waving his hand in Mick’s general direction. “Any. All.”

Mick chuckles, warm and deep, as he comes over. The bed dips beneath his weight as he joins Leonard, pressing up against Leonard’s side. The bars thud onto Leonard’s chest and a plastic bottle slides down his arm. Leonard rolls his eyes but before he can make a comment, Mick draws him into a kiss. Soft, sweet, and promising, it makes Leonard want to purr. Mick pulls away and Leonard reaches for him, intent on continuing to kiss, but Mick gives him a granola bar instead. “Eat first. Make out later.” He then puts a lie to his words by nuzzling his nose under Leonard’s jaw and behind his ear. Fucking distracting. How is Leonard supposed to eat when Mick’s lying next to him looking like the only meal Leonard wants? 

A tendril of arousal unfurls inside of Leonard and he runs his hand down Mick’s side, fingers traveling over muscle and bare skin. Daring more, he skims his hand down Mick’s groin, reaching for his dick. Mick rolls away, leaving the bed. “Eat,” he orders.

“Fine.” Leonard peels open one of the bars and bites into it, if only to get Mick off his back. When it turns out to taste good, however, his stomach helpfully reminds him that he skipped dinner last night and he shoves the rest of the bar into his mouth. He’s grabbing another when Mick comes back with Leonard’s duffle. Mick unzips it and digs through. “They’re in the inside pouch,” Leonard says, already knowing what Mick is looking for. He had confessed on the trip over that while he was off the suppressants, he was still taking a birth control.

The box of pills flips onto Leonard’s stomach and he opens it before he realizes that Mick is still looking in his duffle. “What?” He pops a pill in his mouth and swallows it down with a swig of water.

“You brought it,” Mick mutters. He pulls out a sparking fire opal. The Creator’s Fire sparkles in the morning light, rippling with an internal flame. Transfixed, Mick holds it in his hand and stares.

Leonard fights down an inexplicable blush. “Yeah,” he says. “I…” He sits up and knocks the food and the water to the side. “It’s, uh, it’s yours.”

“What?”

This wasn’t supposed to be hard. It’s far from the first time that Leonard’s given Mick a gift, even an expensive one—and they weren’t even fucking for most of them. Cripes. “We stole it for you. Lisa knew.” Because of course she did. She’d taken one look at the potential mark and had grinned like Christmas had come early.

Mick starts to laugh. He tosses his head back, his entire body shaking, and Leonard is confused. “What’s so funny?” he snaps.

Instead of answering, Mick carefully sets the Creator’s Fire down on the bed and heads back to the entry way. He returns with his own duffle and unzips it, digging to the bottom. Leonard gets up onto his knees to see, frowning when Mick pulls out a black velvet bag. “It’s just funny, Len,” Mick says finally, “’cause I might have done a little shopping, too.” Out of the bag, he pulls a sparkling sapphire necklace, the deep blue glinting in the sun. He hands it to Leonard, then upends the bag to let a cascade of diamonds fall onto the sheets. Mick chuckles again.

Leonard glances from the diamonds to the necklace to Mick and back again. “These…”

“Courting gifts, I guess,” Mick says with a shrug. His eyes catch on the Creator’s Fire and he picks it up, getting sucked back into its fiery depths. “Though, I don’t know. I think this ought to come with a marriage proposal. It’s beautiful.”

The ground that Leonard had thought that he was walking on a few minutes ago has suddenly disappeared and he has no idea how to make it back. “I, uh, _marriage_?”

“Only if you want to, Len. I’m happy either way, you know that.” Mick looks up from his contemplation of the opal.

Leonard doesn’t bother to think. He doesn’t need to. He lunges for Mick, scattering the diamonds and gets his arms around Mick’s broad shoulders. “Stupid son of a bitch,” he mutters. Mick’s brow furls and Leonard kisses him, hard and fast. “Ask me again, when we’re done. Ask me when I’m not focused on getting your dick inside of me.” Leonard runs his hand down Mick’s stomach and grabs his cock, making Mick jump in surprise.

 _Never decide anything during a heat._ One of the first pieces of advice given to all sexes. Still. “Yeah.” Leonard’s pretty sure he already knows what the answer is going to be. He’s been with Mick for 30 years, whether he was aware of it or not. It’s probably about time. Lisa would say that it was _past_ time.

“Yeah?” Mick asks.

Leonard nods. “Yeah.” He reaches for the box of lube and condoms. “Now fuck me already.”

“Wear your necklace for me?” Mick grins, dangling the string of sapphires from his fingers.

Leonard drops his chin to smile. He feels vulnerable, exposed, but it doesn’t bother him like it used to. It’s Mick. “Sure,” he says. When Mick leans in to fasten the necklace, Leonard catches him in a kiss. 

It feels like a promise.


End file.
